


Heaven's Gaze

by Dragon_MoonX



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Cover Art, Inspired by Music, Physical Abuse, Religious Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-22
Updated: 2017-05-06
Packaged: 2018-10-22 14:31:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10698966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dragon_MoonX/pseuds/Dragon_MoonX
Summary: Moments cherished even now, though your broken wings are not enough to carry you away from this pain. There is still hope, a reason to go on, taking strength from those who love you even when they're gone.





	1. Cruelty

Warm rivulets of blood cascaded past his wrists, flowing from his wounds as he bled his mother's sins upon the floor. He knew that it was wrong, he knew that good little boys and girls didn't bleed magic. They didn't fall to the floor, convulsing and screaming as darkness built within their veins.

It never occurred to him that he was meant to do these things. But these things had become twisted and rotten, dying from the inside out like poison that leeched into his bones. When it came it stole the breath from his lungs, silencing his voice so that he couldn't speak, couldn't scream even if he knew the words he wanted to say. His mouth would open in silent torment, and his body would collapse. Down, down, into the burning pits of Hell. For those who possessed such an ability must surely fall, down into the flames where they belong.

Quickly it came, but slowly it would fall, purged in silence as she struck him with his belt. There were times she forced him down on his knees, whipping him across his back, arms and chest. She had trained him well, and never did he make a sound as rivers of blood mingled with the tears that stained his face.

That blood, that impurity that she must cleanse with violence, now stained the floor beside his bed. Credence knew she would be furious with him when she saw the bloodstains on the floor. And yet he couldn't force himself to move. He closed his eyes, has hands shaking as he touched the gash on his forehead. He tried not to think about how he got there, how he managed to see his sister from somewhere near the ceiling. She was sleeping as he watched her, as he swept through the house with cold fury the likes of which this city has never seen before.

But his anger wasn't directed at her. And so he let himself fall, his fingers brushing against the glass, the moonlight streaming across his face. One moment where he attempted to hold on, to reach out to those around him. It was enough to remind him of his fate, to make him remember his humanity. A thing which seemed fleeting even at the best of times.

A low, shuddering breath slipped past his lips, his eyes slowly moving across the darkened room. Panic gripped his chest, suffocating him as he heard his mother's voice from somewhere down the hall. It wasn't until he heard her voice that he felt the strength to move, his hands reaching for the pitcher on the nightstand. And in his haste the pitcher slipped from his grasp, spilling water down the front of his shirt.

"Credence!" Louder this time. She was getting close. "What's going on in there?"

Credence knelt beside the bed, clutching the pitcher against his chest. He had spilled most of water on himself, and yet he couldn't help feeling as though it weren't enough - it was never enough - to cleanse the evil that stained his soul. He washed the blood off his face and hands, then scrambled to pull a faded handkerchief from his pocket. He had to hurry. He couldn't let her see him like this.

He finished cleaning the blood off clothes then flung the soiled handkerchief under the bed. He was about to set the pitcher on the nightstand when the door opened. Credence froze when he saw her, her shadow falling across the floor as she stood in the doorway. There was a moment in which the clock seemed to fail, no longer counting the seconds as she gazed at him from across the room. His heart beat faster as she walked through the door, his breath hitching as she placed her hand beneath his chin, tilting his head back as she carefully examined him.

Blood ran into his eye, stinging and hot, but he did not move or attempt to clean himself. Not when she was glaring at him with the hatred of a thousand furious angels.

"Ma," he whispered, trembling as he gazed fearfully into her eyes. "Ma, please..." His words were cut short by a stinging blow as she slapped him across the face. The blow left him staggering, falling to the floor where he curled in on himself, her angry voice ringing in his ears.

He was given a moment before he felt her hand close around his wrist, forcing him up as she continued to yell at him. She ordered him to remove his belt, then told him to take off his shirt and stand in the corner. Credence did as he was told, sniffling and whimpering as he braced himself for what was coming. It didn't matter that he'd injured himself in the fall, a fall which resulted from one of his partial transformations. She was unaware of his condition, but knew enough about what he was to administer punishment whenever he started acting strangely.

Credence had been taught to accept his punishment, believing that pain was necessary to cleanse him of his sins. It was a reminder of Christ's suffering, and it helped counteract the desires of the flesh. For although his physical body longed to use the gift that he'd been given, in his heart he knew that it was wrong. And so he allowed his mother to beat him, thinking that the pain he felt would force him to concentrate on more spiritual matters.

He closed his eyes and felt the belt slap against his bare skin. She whipped him across the back, slashing at his flesh. Again and again she lashed, until he felt the blood begin to flow. She left him lying in the corner, the door slamming behind her as she exited the room. Credence started shaking, hugging his knees and sobbing. Somewhere in the distance the sun was beginning to rise, its golden light creeping across the dusty floor. He could see it shining at the far side of the room, a mirror image of his own life, forever bathed in darkness with the light of salvation so very far away.

~oOo~

_If this is real - well it feels like hell_  
_Yes it feels like hell_  
_Gods and angels and devils smile_  
_Stare into our crying eyes_  
_Fire in anger and hate beguile_  
_But look into your heart tonight_

-from "Heaven's Gaze" by The Cruxshadows


	2. As The Dark Against My Halo

He wasn't sure how long he lay there, shaking and sobbing, his chest aching with every breath he took. Maybe his sisters would find him. Maybe not. It depended on whether or not they would come upstairs before breakfast. Though he doubted if that were possible, seeing as how his mother was eager to hurry them along.

Credence slowly turned, his wounds stinging as he glanced at the sunlight streaming through the window. He could hear voices downstairs, footsteps moving towards the kitchen as the children arrived for their daily meal. But there was one voice that rose above the others. It was his mother, practicing the speech she would give on the steps of the public library.

Her voice was strong, almost defiant as she rehearsed her speech. It was enough to send a fresh wave of tears cascading down his face, her words reminding him of the sins he'd committed in the past. And suddenly he gasped; a low, choking sound falling from his lips. A dark force, one that resembled undulating wisps of smoke, started seeping from his pores.

It felt enraged, it felt as though it possessed a consciousness, its shadowy tendrils rising up and threatening to engulf him. Credence tried to move, the black strands binding his muscles, causing him to seize up on the floor. The young man closed his eyes, praying for strength to overcome this fierce entity. He couldn't let it consume him. He couldn't let it destroy him.

He rolled over onto his belly, his breath coming in short, shallow gasps as he drug himself across the floor. The smoke continued to rise, drifting and swirling as it wrapped around his arms. He could feel the weight of its tremendous power dragging him down, his movements slowed as though he were wading through several feet of water.

His fingers found the sodden handkerchief under the bed, and he dipped it in the basin, watching the scarlet stains swirling in the porcelain bowl. "Purge me with hyssop and I shall be clean," he prayed, dabbing his wounds with the faded material. "Wash me, and I will be whiter than snow. The Lord's message is one of peace and love. Those who threaten God with force will be met with force."

A low rumble filled the room, the dark mass quivering as its host continued to pray. Credence shuddered, and recited the prayer one last time as the shadowy tendrils were absorbed into his skin. He then dropped the blood soaked handkerchief and collapsed onto his side, exhausted from fighting the entity that slept within his troubled mind.

He was still, staring at the wall as the last of his demons faded from sight. It took several minutes for him to get his breathing under control, his heart still pounding frantically against his ribs. But the entity would not stay still, his muscles spasming as his mind sifted through the events that had taken place during the past few weeks.

It was during one of his mother's meetings that he saw him, the man with dark hair and cold, piercing eyes. He materialized out of the crowd, his gaze focused on Credence as they ushered a young woman through the doors and down the steps. That woman, that kind, gentle soul who tried comforting Credence after she walked in on his mother taking a belt to her eldest child, had to be escorted out after a skirmish between her and Mary Lou. But the man barely spared her a passing glance, his hand on her back as they led her through the door.

He hesitated, leaning sideways to whisper something in his associate's ear, then turned and headed up the steps. The man was Percival Graves, director of magical security at MACUSA. He could see that Credence was upset when the young lady had to be forcefully removed. And as he reached towards her, holding out his hand in a gesture that begged her to return, Graves came forward, and Credence backed into a corner, cowering in fear as the dark man approached him.

"You needn't fear me," said Graves, his tone low and soothing. "My name is Graves. Percival Graves." He offered his hand and Credence stared at it, wide eyed and fearful, as though he'd come face to face with a venomous snake.

If he could he would have taken Credence to the side, speaking with him in private so as not to be overheard by the Aurors. But now was not the time, nor was he in position to lead this young man off into the shadows. If he tried, Credence would probably panic and try running from the building. And yet there was something else, something besides fear that prevented him from running. It was a look of awe buried beneath the terror that shone so clearly in his eyes. It was complete and utter fascination, as well as a hint of curiosity, for he had witnessed the young woman using magic when she attacked his mother.

Graves took note of Credence's curiosity, his eyebrow raised as he studied the young man. He appeared to consider him, a flicker of recognition passing briefly before his eyes. "My apologies," he said softly. "I didn't mean to frighten you." Graves hesitated for a fraction of a second before continuing. "You've been through this before, haven't you?"

Credence was shaking, his eyes darting towards his mother who was being examined by a pair of Aurors.

"It's alright," Graves continued, nodding in the direction of the Aurors. "They're modifying her memory so she won't remember what happened. They aren't going to hurt her. And even if they did, I doubt it would be worse than what she's done to you." He passed his hand over Credence's arm, watching as the dark fabric magically crept towards his elbow.

His actions revealed a series of half healed cuts along the length of Credence's arm. But instead of backing away, Credence lifted his head, his lips parting as he stared at him in disbelief. He knew Credence would understand what this meant, and he lowered his voice, his tone gentle as he addressed the boy.

"Meet me tomorrow night at eight in front of the Woolworth building," he whispered, leaning in close so only Credence could hear him. "You are to tell no one. Understand?"

"Y-yes, sir."

"Good boy." Graves patted him on the shoulder. "You are a gifted individual. Remember that, and don't ever let anyone tell you different."

Credence watched as Graves swept across the room, his robes billowing out behind him as he went. Something about this felt wrong, very wrong indeed. And yet he met with Graves under the cover of darkness, and listened to him explain about the mysterious force that was wreaking havoc on the city. He thought that maybe this man would accept him for what he was rather than cast him aside, claiming that all things magical were products of hatred and evil.

In time he was rewarded for his efforts with promises of knowledge, training and acceptance. Graves offered him comfort and reassurance, which was more than he usually got at home, and each time they met he would reveal more about the world he came from. A world that Credence longed to be a part of. 

But where was he now, this angel of mercy who cared for him in his time of need. Credence desperately craved the friendship and warmth he received from the older man. It made him feel as though someone truly appreciated him. It made him feel safe, like nothing could ever harm him. But then he would come home and face his mother's wrath, knowing that his friend was far away in a world he could only imagine.

~oOo~

_Where is my angel_  
_Where is my angel_  
_Where is my angel, when I need him most?_  
_Where is my angel_  
_Where is my angel_  
_Where is my angel, tell me now where did he go?_

-from "Even Angels Fall" by The Cruxshadows


	3. Burning

The light was fading, drifting away in silence as Credence slept on the floor beside his bed. He was too exhausted to move, his strength failing as the voices of his family drifted into the street.

A moan passed between his lips, his fingers twitching and grasping at invisible entities that existed only his dreams. Sometimes he would cry out, moving restlessly in his sleep as the Obscurus threatened to awake from its slumber. It was only during sleep that he was given the chance to escape, fleeing from his demons in the wee hours of the night.

Within a few hours he started feeling feverish, his face and chest drenched in perspiration. There was something burning at the center of his being, a violent, unstable force that occasionally manifested in the form of an illness. His mother refused to take him to the doctor, stating that there was nothing they could do for the sort of illness he had. This worried his sisters, for they had seen him having convulsions when his temperature got too high. And all the while their mother chose to ignore him, blind to the suffering she caused and the illness he endured.

The embers continued to burn, flames merging with shadow as the morning slipped away. In his mind he saw himself surrounded by a towering wall of flames, while overhead a lone phoenix was singing a mournful dirge. The phoenix spread its wings, its shining feathers rippling in the wind. Credence reached for the immortal bird, seeking shelter in the swirling vortex that surrounded the magnificent beast. But the phoenix took to the skies, escaping the fire and leaving him to burn.

It wasn't until the setting sun bathed the walls in shades of crimson and gold that his family returned, with Chastity heading upstairs to check on her brother. She heard their mother say that Credence was ill, and that he wouldn't be able to attend this morning's meeting. But Chastity knew better than to trust their mother when it came to Credence's health and well being.

She climbed the stairs and stopped outside her brother's bedroom, then raised a hand and knocked on the door. Silence filled the hall as she waited for Credence to respond, the tension growing with every minute that passed. There was always a chance that their mother was telling the truth. Which meant that he could have had another seizure while they were away.

"Credence?" Chastity paused, waiting to see if he would respond. "Credence, are you alright? Mother said you weren't feeling well." Her fingers closed around the doorknob. "If you don't answer me then I'm coming in, Credence." Another pause. The doorknob began to turn. "Alright," she said, a note of hesitation in her voice. "I'm coming in now."

The last light of dusk fell upon the floor, illuminating the darkened room as flecks of dust swirled in the fading sunlight. Chastity took a step forward, the floorboards creaking beneath her feet as she moved towards the bed. Her pulse quickened when she saw him lying on the floor, surrounded by broken bits of porcelain.

"Credence!" she exclaimed, skirting around the broken pitcher and kneeling beside him on the floor. "Credence, no. Please be alright." She placed a hand on his shoulder and recoiled when she felt intense heat radiating from his skin.

A moment passed before Credence began to wake up, his eyes opening slowly as he blinked and looked around in confusion. He'd forgotten that he'd fallen asleep on the floor, and when he saw his sister he whimpered and curled in on himself.

"It's alright, Credence," Chastity soothed. "It's just me. I'm not going to hurt you."

The poor man had been beaten so many times that he never knew what to expect when he woke up. And if he accidentally dozed off during one of his mother's meetings, or overslept because his nightmares kept him awake long past one in the morning, he could expect to have a rude awakening once his mother discovered him sleeping in the middle of the day.

"I'm sorry," he apologized. "I didn't know it was you. I thought..." His voice trailed off as his gaze drifted towards the floor. "I thought you were someone else."

His sister knew what he meant, and gave him a sympathetic nod before helping him to his feet.

He sat down on the edge of the bed, then winced when he felt the back of Chastity's hand against his forehead. Credence quickly muttered a second apology, his shoulders sinking as he finally started to relax. He knew there was no reason to be afraid of her. But the abuse he'd suffered at the hands of his mother caused him shrink away from the slightest touch.

"You've got a terrible fever," said Chastity, her brow furrowing with concern. "Lay down while I fetch some water and a cold compress."

"I can't," he whimpered. "Ma will be upset when she sees the mess I made."

"I'll take care of it, Credence," said Chastity, her tone gentle as she spoke to her ailing brother. "Right now it's more important that you get some rest."

Credence watched as she hurried out of the room, then turned his attention to the bloodstains on the floor. The last thing he remembered was seeing Modesty asleep in her bed, followed by blood and a sharp stab of pain. He remembered great plumes of smoke drifting towards the horizon, his body wreathed in flames as the dirge of the phoenix filled the skies.

It felt as though he were burning from the inside out, his body slowly disintegrating until nothing remained but ashes in the wind. He imagined he'd be in flight by the time they found his body, like dark feathers drifting through the city streets. Because all that remained of his humanity was dying, burning in everlasting flames.

He closed his eyes, the last ounce of strength falling from his limbs. If this was the end, then let it come peacefully. Let it come during sleep before a thousand anguished screams tore open the silence of the night.

The hours slipped away as Credence entered a deep, dreamless sleep. There were times when he passed beyond the realm of dreams, entering unconsciousness as his temperature continued to rise. When he awoke his sister was sitting beside the bed, dabbing at his face and neck with a damp washcloth. But his fever was so intense he couldn't feel the cloth against his cheek.

Chastity stayed with him throughout the night, keeping a close watch on him as Credence continued to drift in and out of consciousness. At times she slept beside him on the floor, never wanting to stray too far in case he needed help. It was more than their mother would have done for him. But Chastity wasn't like their mother. She was a gentle soul who was willing to sacrifice her time and energy in order to care for her brother.

~oOo~

_But though the phantoms of this place_  
_Want to steal away your grace_  
_I'll sleep beside you through the cold_  
_I will not leave you here_  
_And in this silence I can hear_  
_All the fury and the fear_  
_But I promise you my love_  
_I will not leave you here_

-from "Orphean Wing" by The Cruxshadows


	4. Angelus Everlasting

He slept and awoke, skirting the edge of consciousness for hours at a time. Sometimes he would hear Chastity's voice, her hand beneath his head as she lifted him off the pillow and held a glass of water to his lips. He could see her eyes, shining in darkness, with teardrops glistening in the moonlight.

'How long?' he mused, his gaze drifting towards the ceiling as Chastity replaced the cloth on his forehead. 'How long have I been here? Hours? Days?' The pain was getting worse. It felt like his skin was on fire. 'Am I dying?'

He slept again, and this time he saw his mother's face, a smile blossoming on her lips as she held him in her arms. But this wasn't the woman that adopted him. This was his biological mother, the kind, gentle soul who passed away when he was very young. And in her arms he felt protected, her love enveloping him, his pain forgotten as she placed a kiss on his forehead.

"It's not your time, Credence," she whispered. "You must go. Live your life to the fullest. And remember that I will always love you."

He closed his eyes, letting the warmth of his mother's love heal his wounded body. When he awoke in the morning, his heart felt lighter. He gazed at the crucifix on the wall above his bed, and remembered hearing his mother's voice in his dreams. Credence had never been sure about the existence of Heaven, but he felt certain his mother was an angel.

"Credence." The voice of another angel spoke beside him. "Thank heavens you're awake!" The next thing he knew he was being embraced by his little sister, her arms around him as Chastity buried her face in the crook of his neck.

This affectionate gesture startled the young man, who had to resist the sudden urge to push her onto the floor. His breath caught in his chest, and he slowly began to relax, his hand moving tentatively towards her back as he attempted to return her affection. It was an awkward gesture, one that made her chuckle as she moved to sit on the bed.

"You're looking much better this morning," said Chastity, her eyes bright and hopeful. She brushed the hair out of his face, placed her palm against his forehead, and was relieved to see that his temperature had returned to normal. "Would you like me to make you something to eat? You haven't had any food in your belly since yesterday."

Credence's stomach produced an audible growl, a flush rising in his cheeks as he wrapped his arm around his waist. "Yes, please," he said, grinning sheepishly at his little sister. "Breakfast sounds good right now."

"Alright then." Chastity stood up and made her way towards the door. "You take it easy, brother," she said, glancing over her shoulder at him. "I'll be back in a couple minutes."

Her footsteps retreated down the hall, and for a moment the house was silent. Credence sat up and listened for any sound that might indicate the other members of his family were awake. He didn't fancy the thought of speaking with his adoptive mother, who would probably snatch his belt and beat him for not attending yesterday's meeting.

Within a matter of minutes the footsteps returned, but they were smaller and more hesitant, approaching cautiously as they tiptoed down the hall. These tiny, almost inaudible footsteps belonged to his little sister Modesty, who was moving quietly so as not to wake their mother.

A smile graced the corners of her lips when she entered the room and saw Credence sitting up in bed. She ran towards him, her anxiety forgotten as she climbed into bed and sat down at his feet.

"Big brother," she chirped, cocking her head to the side like a curious puppy. "Chastity said you're feeling better."

"Yes, I'm feeling much better, Modesty," said Credence, his spirits lifting at the sight of her happy, smiling face. It wasn't every day that he was shown acts of love and kindness, and to see both girls concerned about his well being made him feel happier than he had in weeks.

"I've got something for you." The little girl reached into the pocket of her nightgown and produced half a bar of chocolate. "I've been saving it since Easter. Momma said I wasn't supposed to share with you, but I want you to have it."

Credence blinked and stared at her in disbelief. "You're giving that to me?" he asked, a hint of uncertainty in his voice.

His sister nodded, saying that it was a gift to help him feel better. "Chocolate makes everyone feel better," she added as Credence unwrapped the chocolate bar and started eating. "That's probably why you're always sick because momma won't let you have any treats."

It was an interesting theory, one that Credence found amusing but not the least bit true. He knew there was something wrong with him, something he didn't have words for. But for now his troubles seemed far away, as the darkness began to fade and light returned to his world. He was surrounded by light and love, he had been blessed with the opportunity to live another day, and right now he couldn't be happier.

~oOo~

_And if I fall, give me the strength to rise unbroken_   
_And where I stand_   
_The courage and will to fight_   
_That when I dream_   
_These eyes discern my purpose_   
_And believe_

-from "Valkyrie" by The Cruxshadows


End file.
